


you're cold

by hcnrikhclm



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: M/M, SKAM - Freeform, wat dis idk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-29 02:15:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11431053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hcnrikhclm/pseuds/hcnrikhclm
Summary: in which a support group counsellor advises isak to write letters to even.





	1. letter one

dear blondie,

why won't you tell us your fucking name?

sincerely,

a very pissed off isak.


	2. first

“i’ve just started accepting that things aren’t gonna get any better for me. like, we meet up here every week and pretend we’re not all falling apart inside, for what? For the doughnuts? For the orange juice? To make friends?” he stands from his chair and the room spins, but he pushes on. “isn’t the point of a support group, I don’t know, to help you deal with your shit life? Isn’t that what it is?”

“no, isak, it’s not.”

“then what is it? i’m sick of wasting time out of my day coming here, listening to all of your bruxism or plmd stories. i fucking wish things were that easy for me. i don’t sleep, andreas. do you know how shit that is? going to college every day, working well into the night after class, and then coming home to have the shit scared out of me when i try to fall asleep? i’m scared to close my eyes. i fucking _see_ things.”

the door opens with a high-pitch squeak and everyone’s head turns but isak’s. his gaze is fixed on the counsellor sitting opposite him, but now that everyone’s attention has shifted towards the newcomer, he finally notices the tension in the air. the awkward posture andreas is sitting in. the grateful sighs sounding around the room.

he turns.

the male standing in the doorway is quite possibly the tallest person isak’s ever seen. he studies him and the mess of blond hair sitting atop his head, the light silver chain disappearing beneath the plain black shirt clinging to his body, the watch hugging his wrist and pointing to the wrong time. he has no time to let his eyes travel lower because–

“welcome!” andreas chirps happily – _way too happy for someone leading a support group filled with insomniacs,_ isak thinks – while gesturing for the boy to advance into the room. “don’t be shy! this is a safe space.”

“right.” the voice is deeper than any of them anticipated, and even isak is taken aback. slowly, uncertainly, he lowers himself back down on his chair, and the blonde speaks again. “i’m not here by choice.”

“you have legs.” isak blurts out instantly at his words, his eyes narrowing. “you can walk. nobody knocked you out and dragged you here, so yeah, you’re here by choice.”

gasps, this time. isak thinks he prefers the sighs. he ignores andreas’ tight-lipped smile and dark eyes. he’s never pulled something like this before, he knows that. it’s not like him. he’ll blame it on the lack of sleep.

“thought this was supposed to be a support group.” the stranger echoes isak’s earlier statement, a faint trace of amusement in his tone. isak hates him and his stupid blonde hair already.

“it is. isak’s having an off day. we all do, sometimes, but i hope it doesn’t scare you off. we encourage you to be honest about how you feel. as i said, it’s a safe space.”

“great, ‘cuz i’m not done.” isak pipes up from his chair as the blonde advances into the room, his own tired eyes searching for a place to sit before he settles for dragging a stacked plastic chair in-between isak and a nervous-looking girl. “so what’s the point, andreas? of being here when it doesn’t make a difference to my life?”

andreas isn’t an insomniac. he sleeps just fine every night, slips under his covers at ten on the dot after he feeds his dog, kisses his fiancé’s lips adoringly, and sets his alarm for five o’clock exactly. he wastes most of his time counselling teenagers at a local state school – the kind where the kids couldn’t care less about being here, and don’t want to talk to anyone about their private lives. isak thinks it’s pitiful, really. andreas could do with getting a real job.

“none of us are qualified sleep doctors here, isak. i can’t tell you how to live your life in hopes that you suddenly stop experiencing sleep paralysis. i’m a counsellor, and i’m certain that being here would make a lot of difference, if you only gave it a chance. you have a chance to talk about what you’re going through and receive emotional support. that’s all we can offer you. you knew that when you waked through that same door six months ago.”

“and i’ve watched dozens of people come and go. i'm not the only one who thinks this whole thing is a waste of time.”

“so leave.” isak’s eyes widen at the voice beside him. more confident than it should be, given its owner is new, but isak doesn’t get a chance to speak before he continues. “if you think it’s not helpful, why’ve you stuck it out for six months? go be miserable somewhere else.”

his cheeks flush. he doesn't know. it's become routine.

and who is this tall asshole, anyway, coming in to school him on his own feelings? ordering him to find something better to do with his time? he'll do what he wants, thanks.

"i'm not leaving because you told me to." he says slowly after a five minute pause, rising to his feet. everyone seems to relax a bit. he's offended. "i'm leaving because i can manage just fine by myself."

he swears he can hear the blonde huffing when he passes through the doorway.


End file.
